Merry Craismas
by Giton
Summary: Crais experiences a Christmas party in The Uncharted Territories


Disclaimer: "Farscape" is a protected trademark and I'm Just borrowing the characters. I promise to give them back once I've used them, hopefully more or less intact.  
Can you blame Crais for not enjoying parties? How about a Christmas party?  
  
Summary: Crais experiences a Christmas party in the Uncharted Territories  
  
Merry Craismas  
By GitonCrais  
  
One monen ago, on their last visit to Moya, Crichton had told Crais about the upcoming party in honour of Christmas.  
  
Crais had almost done a double-take and had paled visibly. The word "party" instilled more fear in the former Peacekeeper Captain than even the mention of "ten battalions of angry Scarrans".  
"Crichton, I don't know if..." He managed to sound calm and keep the panic out of his voice.  
  
"Crais, you are much too uptight."  
Crais looked at him from the corner of his eyes, "Can you blame me Crichton? I think I have reason..."  
"Oh, Crais! Talking about long memories."  
  
Crais pressed his lips together and bristled with indignation. "Crichton..." he started after a deep breath, his right eyebrow rising menacingly.  
"No "buts" Crais. You really have to loosen up. I promise, no chocolate, no Therin-seeds."  
  
Crais doubted if the absence of those dreaded substances would lessen the danger. A small plan formed in his mind to "miss" the party but his curiosity was peaked, "What is this "Krsm's" anyway?"  
  
Crichton knew he had Crais' attention, the ex-Peacekeeper couldn't leave information alone but he thought it wise not to mention that it was a religious holiday, the thought alone would keep Crais away. He wasn't sure why he had invited Crais in the first place. It had been obvious in the past that Crais didn't take well to parties and Crichton justified this decision to "feeling the Christmas spirit". If it could work for the Crinch, it might work for Captain Crunch. He chuckled at his own wordplay.  
"Is something amusing you Crichton," the serious face of Crais made Crichton smile and he shook his head before explaining Christmas to Crais.  
  
"Christmas is an Earth's celebration. (Crais rolled his eyes) It is fun. (a sarcastic sneer lifted the corner of Crais' mouth) Honest, you'll see you will enjoy it. (Crais' groan was almost audible) You have to bring presents for everyone ("Where does he think I can get the credits from," thought Crais) and we will have plenty to eat and to drink," Crichton concluded.  
"More like a Hynerian party," said Crais aloud.  
"You've got it," beamed Crichton.  
  
"I see what I can do," said Crais evasively, "If I am near..."  
"Don't worry about that. Talyn and Moya have already agreed to meet up at specific coordinates about that time."  
  
This time Crais found it difficult to hide his ire. "You have already talked to Talyn about it," he asked slowly, his eyes forming into slits.  
"Yes," Crichton smiled happily, "And he is quite excited with the idea."  
"I bet he is," murmured Crais.  
  
+++++++  
Once on board Talyn, Crais asked Talyn, "Crichton has already approached you for the Krsm's party I hear?"  
Talyn chirped happily.  
"What if I don't want to attend?"  
You will enjoy it, Crais Talyn chirped happily at Crais.  
Crais wasn't too sure and plotted a course, which would take them deeper into the Uncharted Territories.  
  
+++++++  
Even though the thought of attending the Krsm's party was quite horrifying to him, Crais couldn't help but wonder about it when he was down on the Commerce Planet to get restocked. He couldn't help but wonder what to buy or get the others for presents.  
  
He didn't have that many credits, so his resources were limited. He wasn't sure how much spend on a present was acceptable.  
He spotted some sweet delicacies for Rygel...  
  
Before he realised it he had spend some of his credits on various presents.  
Rygel: sweets  
Zhaan: ceramic herb container  
Ka D'Argo: Book of Luxan music scores  
Chiana: embroidered leather belt  
For Aeryn and Crichton he acquired some pieces of wood.  
  
Talyn was happy that Crais had changed his mind and had given the party some thought but the last two choices were confusing to Talyn when he came back on board Why wood Crais?  
"Two very good reasons," Crais explained, "I only had a few credits left. I'll be eating food cubes until we meet up with Moya and I used to be adequate in woodcarving when I was younger."  
  
He spent the rest of the monen, after he did his maintenance of Talyn and plotting, in the galley carving the pieces of wood.  
He had forgotten how much he enjoyed woodcarving and soon the rough pieces of wood were transformed into shapes.  
  
The white wood of Tar'aghnor changed into the spacecraft of Crichton, the dark wood of Valdon into Aeryn's Prowler and the multicoloured wood of Delvia into Moya and Talyn. The markings on the ships were finely carved into the wood. A rough polishing cloth provided the finishing touches of smoothing it into a shiny finish.  
  
When he was done there was only a weeken left before they would meet up with the others again.  
  
He looked at the small models on the table and a feeling of pride and satisfaction filled his heart. He was pleased with the results.  
  
You have changed your mind and we are going to meet with them?  
"Yes Talyn, we will go," Crais looked at his presents and wondered if they would like them.  
I'm sure they will Crais  
Crais' corner of the mouth twitched, "Thank you Talyn."  
For whom are the other two presents?  
"They are for Pilot, from you and me."  
Talyn sounded happy I think he will appreciate them  
  
Since Crais had no idea how the presents were to be presented or whether they were presented open or concealed, he opted for the last option. He wrapped each carefully in pieces of cloth, which he then tied up with a piece of string. He placed them all in his carryall, ready to be taken.  
  
+++++++  
Crais found it strange to feel anticipation in meeting up with the others, "Are they here yet, Talyn?"  
Talyn was growing impatient with Crais, No Crais, for the fifty-fourth time, they are not here yet  
Crais paced nervously in Command.  
  
+++++++  
They're here Talyn chirped happily.  
"It's about time," Crais thought. "Talyn, open the comm. link."  
  
The grinning visage of Crichton appeared on the clamshell, "Decided to come after all, Crais?"  
"I said I would," Crais said calmly, all excitements of earlier devoid from his voice.  
  
"No, you said you see what you could do, never that you would actually be here. Or did Talyn threaten to shut down the environmental system again?"  
Crais winced visibly at that remark. He raised an eyebrow at Crichton, "You are late for the rendezvous."  
  
"Well, you know how it is with tree-shopping. You always leave it to the last minute and then they don't have the tree you want."  
Crais looked in complete confusion at the screen. "Tree... shopping," he asked incredulously.  
"Yeah and last minutes presents."  
  
Crais rolled his eyes. The Human knew in advance when the party was going to be held, yet he left it to the last minute to buy presents? No sense of planning at all.  
  
"Don't tell me you didn't have any problems finding presents," said Crichton as if he could read Crais' mind.  
"No Crichton, I did not," Crais tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice.  
"You did consider coming to the party then?"  
"You sound surprised."  
"I am, actually. I see you on board soon then."  
"I will be there."  
  
+++++++  
When he stepped from the transport pod on Moya's deck the usual greeting party was waiting for him. The normal scowls on their faces, the Luxan ready to draw his weapon. Crais wondered why he had bothered to come, worse, wondered why he had spend his credits on them. It was obvious they weren't very happy to see him.  
  
Crichton stepped forward, "Merry Christmas, Crais," and shook his hand vigorously.  
Crais raised an eyebrow and answered in kind, "Merry Krsm's Crichton."  
"You're learning. Now we say it to each other."  
  
Everyone looked at each other bemused and then mumbled "Merry Christmas" or versions thereof half-heartedly or heartily at each other.  
Ka D'Argo tried to ignore Crais and Crais did not encourage him.  
  
"Now, now," said Crichton, "You have to say this to everyone."  
Crais decided that since he had come this far he might as well go the whole way and said "Merry Krsm's" to Ka D'Argo. He was not surprised to get a scowl back.  
  
"We are holding the party on the Observation Deck," said Crichton, "You could give us a hand putting the decorations up and put your presents down."  
  
"I would like to see Pilot first," said Crais.  
"Fine," answered Crichton, shrugging his shoulder, "I'll see you later then."  
  
+++++++  
Crais proceeded to Pilot's Den.  
"Crais," Pilot was surprised to see him, "Why are you not with the others?"  
"Talyn and I have a present for you too. We don't know when to give it to you, so, I thought..."  
  
He took the two small packages out of his carryall and handed them to Pilot.  
"That's very thoughtful of you Crais."  
Crais' mouth twitched in embarrassment. He watched Pilot open the presents. It always amazed him how delicate Pilot's huge claws could be.  
"It's Talyn and Moya! They are beautiful Crais."  
  
Crais could feel the flush rise to his cheeks and he was glad that no one of the Moya crew was there to see him blush, "Thank you Pilot, we're glad that you like them."  
"Moya thanks you too."  
Crais left the Den quickly.  
  
+++++++  
He found the males on the Observation Deck and wondered what had happened to the female part of the crew, " Where are the others?"  
"They are in the Galley, cooking."  
Crais raised a quizzical eyebrow and tried to picture Aeryn setting the Galley on fire. An amused smile twitched at the corner of his mouth.   
  
Off to the side a big tree filled half the area, it almost reached to the ceiling of the Observation deck. Crais was puzzled. Crichton saw his look. "It will have to do as a Christmas tree," he said.  
"Why a tree, Crichton," asked Crais with a questioning frown.  
"It's tradition."  
  
Crais raised an eyebrow. He stood around, not quite sure what to do. Ka D'Argo was hanging streamers and Rygel helped him to attach it to the ceiling by moving his hover-sled up. Crichton was busy putting candles in the tree.  
  
"Did you bring any presents," Crichton asked over his shoulder.  
"Of course," replied Crais, "I have them in my carryall."  
Crichton looked surprised at him and Crais asked, "That was the requisite for the party, wasn't it?"  
"Yes," answered Crichton, "I was just surprised that you remembered."  
Again Crais' eyebrow went up, this time in annoyance, "Why should I forget?"  
"Never mind. Did you tag them?"  
"Tag them?"  
"Yeah, put everyone's names on it somehow."  
"No, I thought..."  
"You better do that then and write your own name underneath it."  
Crais pursed his lips and went off to find something to write with.  
  
+++++++  
When he returned about half an arn later, Crichton had finished his task and looked over at Crais, "You can put your presents under the tree with all the other presents."  
  
It was only then that Crais noticed that a huge pile was already forming under the tree. He nodded and brought his presents over. He had to crouch low to arrange them under the tree, taking care to place Crichton's and Aeryn's on a safe spot.  
Crichton had started to light the candles.  
  
When Crais moved back to move from under the tree Crichton stepped away from the tree to light another set of candles. By coincidence the two men bumped into each other. Crichton fell backwards. Crais fell forwards. He had the readiness of thought to roll away from the presents and away from the tree.  
  
Unfortunately, the tree was not as secure as Crichton had thought and slowly it toppled sideways, gathering speed as it came down.  
  
Crais had just come to rest from his roll when he saw the tree come crashing over him. He only had time to raise his hand to protect his eyes and face.  
The trunk of the tree had come to rest over Crais' ankles. Two of the lower branches came to rest on either side of his thigh, miraculously not penetrating anything. Another branch kept his arm in place and only one branch had penetrated the fleshy part of his shoulder. In effect the tree pinned him effectively against the deck. Crais couldn't move.  
  
He tried to wriggle free but to no avail. He growled in frustration, "Could someone get this tree off me?" He was able to move his head and saw Ka D'Argo help Crichton up but his call was ignored or maybe he couldn't be heard. He growled low to himself.  
  
His frustration grew into worry and then into panic when he could smell smoke. He lifted his head and tried to detect where it was coming from. His eyes widened in fear when he saw the flicker of fire to his left. The candles Crichton had already lit. He wriggled harder while calling out to Ka D'Argo, it only resulted in pinning him further to the Deck and aggravating his shoulder.  
  
"Ka D'Argo! Crichton!" There was panic in his voice. If there was one thing Sebaceans feared more than to die the Living Death it was being burned alive.  
Crais breathed quickly and deep, a small keening sound almost escaped his lips. He kept himself under control. The fire seemed brighter. He looked through the foliage at the others and could hear Ka D'Argo ask, "Where is Crais?"  
"Not sure," answered Crichton, "I thought I bumped into him."  
  
Crais called out again, "Crichton, under the tree!" His shout ended in a coughing fit when smoke reached his lungs. He could feel the heat getting closer, "Crichton!" This time his shout was loud enough to be heard.  
  
Both men looked into the direction of the tree. "Frell! The tree is on fire," shouted Crichton, "Get the DRD's over here!"  
Three DRD's had already entered the room, ready to tackle the fire and started spraying it to extinguish the fire. Some of the spray landed on Crais' face and he spluttered.  
  
"Crichton," he called out once more. The coughing and spluttering became more violent.  
"I can hear Crais," said Ka D'Argo but made no move.  
"Under... the... tree," gasped Crais loudly. He was getting exhausted with coughing and the fear of fire. He finally could see them move towards the tree.  
"I think he's under the tree," said Ka D'Argo."  
Crais sneered, how astute.  
  
The Luxan put all his strength in trying to lift the tree. "I told you, Crichton, the frelling tree is too big and too heavy," he panted with the exertion. The tree moved up and then down again.  
Crais bit his lips not to cry out when the branch pulled out of his shoulder and then came down again.  
  
Finally Ka D'Argo had a firm grip on the tree and it moved up and away from Crais. He had to bite his lip again when the weight came down on his ankles but he gasped in relief when the tree was lifted off his body.  
  
Crichton moved forward to pull Crais away, Crais could not suppress a moan when he pulled at his injured shoulder. Crichton looked at the blood on his hands, "D I think he's hurt."  
Was it Crais' imagination or did he hear the big Luxan laugh?  
  
When the tree came away they could see how much Crais was hurt. The branch that had penetrated his shoulder had dug deep but had not hit any major arteries. His ankles, though not broken or sprained, had been bruised enough to make walking very uncomfortable. After watching the arduous efforts of Crais to hobble to Medical, Ka D'Argo took pity on him and against Crais' protestations carried him there.  
  
Luckily the damage wasn't as bad as they had first thought and Crichton soon fixed the injuries.  
Crais was inclined to stay in Medical, preferably far away from the sight of the tree but Crichton convinced him otherwise. It wouldn't be a party if one of the guests was missing.  
  
+++++++  
Crais sat in a chair on the Observation Deck. Some strands of his hair had come away from the tight queue and there were small traces of soot near his hairline. He had his arm in a sling to ease the discomfort. Luckily his leg-guards had taken the brunt of the tree and although sore, his ankles had only sustained minor damage. The shock of watching the fire getting closer was slowly wearing off.  
  
He watched the others and was strangely intrigued with some of the proceedings.  
Crichton and Ka D'Argo had managed to re-erect the tree and again Crichton was busy putting real candles in; Crais shuddered. He wasn't going near that tree again, not with fire burning in it, no matter how much Crichton would try to convince him that it would be safe to do so.  
  
Multi-coloured small objects had been placed at random in the tree, if it was supposed to have a pattern Crais couldn't detect one.  
The streamers were mainly white with an occasional colour thrown in, it effectively hid the back wall. The big conference table he was sitting at was covered with a green cloth.  
Miraculously the stack of presents had survived the crash of the tree and the fire.  
  
Crais could hear Rygel mutter under his breath. Rygel knew that, though the Human could not hear him and the Luxan was too far away to do so, Crais would be able to hear him, "I should not be doing this as a Dominar. I bet Crais managed to get himself into a position to get out of lending a hand. Isn't it a coincidence that the tree toppled?" He threw a covert glance in Crais' direction.  
Crais bristled but kept his council.  
  
When the others came in most of the work was done and it was only Crichton who was still busy lightning the last candle.  
  
Aeryn sat next to Crais, "What happened to your arm? I don't remember you had your arm in a sling when you came on board."  
"Minor accident," Crais averted his eyes and avoided looking over at Crichton.  
Aeryn let it pass, if he didn't want to talk about it... She noticed the few traces of soot near his hairline and the few loose strands of hair, which had managed to escape the queue and wondered what had happened.  
  
"How is the cooking proceeding," asked Crais, changing the subject.  
He saw a glint of anger flare in Aeryn's eyes, "Have you ever tried working with a Nebari and a Delvian..." she looked at Crais and saw an amused smile on his lips, she smiled back, "No, you wouldn't have and I shouldn't have."  
She folded her arms over her chest, "Chiana is totally undisciplined, messy, noisy! And Zhaan doesn't believe in speed of any kind." She scowled.  
  
"And how is your cooking Aeryn?"  
She looked at him and a smile grew on her face, "I'm learning. At least I'm not burning the place down anymore." She saw Crais wince ever so covertly and continued to his benefit, "I'm normally assigned to the preparation of the food. And how about you?"  
  
"I... manage," answered Crais.  
Aeryn was in a talkative mood, "You can do better than that."  
Crais' mouth twitched and a quick glance told him that the others were out of earshot, "The DRD's are not hurrying to the kitchen anymore."  
Aeryn laughed and Crais looked furtively around him. Crichton glanced jealously at them. It made Aeryn laugh even louder.  
  
Crais was glad he had not gone into detail about what had happened the first time he had tried to cook. Of course, as a Peacekeeper he had been trained to cook in the field while on campaigns but that was a far cry from cooking over a range or normal fire.  
  
His first try at cooking had resulted in a blast from the oven, which knocked him back several feet, singeing his goatee and eyebrows and being doused in fire retardant spray from the DRD's. It had taken him a while before he tried again. After several failures, which made even Talyn chuckle, he finally managed to make his first edible meal. He was now able to prepare simple meals, a welcome addition to the food cubes.  
  
"What made you decide to come after all?"  
Aeryn's question brought him back to the present, "Why do you ask?"  
"I had the impression that after the last time you weren't keen to join a party again."  
"I don't know," answered Crais truthfully, "I had considered not coming. Maybe I was curios."  
"Talyn didn't threaten you?"  
Crais shook his head, "I decided for myself."  
Aeryn smiled and Crais felt strangely comforted by it.  
  
+++++++  
Crichton and the others were finally finished, "Ta-da!"  
Crais wondered what Crichton had meant to say, his translator microbes did not translate the word.  
  
All the candles in the tree had been lit and although looking quite pretty, Crais could not suppress a shudder. He did notice that as a precaution the presents had been moved to form a pile to the side.  
  
Everyone stood or sat around, looking at each other, not having a clue how to proceed further. All eyes turned to Crichton for direction.  
  
"Okay," Crichton started, "This is where the real fun begins."  
Crais shivered mentally. He did so every time the Human used the word, an instinctive reaction.  
  
Crichton continued, "I play one of Santa's helpers and share out the presents."  
Every one looked at each other but Crais spoke up for them all, his eyes closing to slits, "Who are you aiding, Crichton?"  
  
"Santa's helper, they live on the North Pole," Crichton grinned.  
"Of which planet," there was a definite menacing sound to Crais' growl.   
"Earth!"  
"Erp," Crais asked incredulously.  
"Yes, Earth. They are part of Christmas." Everyone in the room relaxed visibly.  
  
"Maybe it would be better if you describe this Krsm's to us," Crais spoke up. He had not been the only one with instinctive reactions to Crichton's words, "before passions run high."  
  
Crichton literally beamed. He had hoped that someone would take the bait and would ask out of sheer curiosity, he could always trust Crais to be that man.  
  
Crichton decided to skip the religious story; it would be difficult enough to make them accept the commercial version. "Let us all settle down first."  
Crais was already seated and soon everyone else was sitting down down.  
  
"On Earth we have an arctic region and it is called the North Pole. Nobody lives there, except Santa and his elves. At least that is how the story goes. The whole year round Santa and his helpers make presents and then on the night of Christmas Santa goes out in his sleigh and delivers presents all over the world."  
  
"And he does that in one evening," Crais asked with a tilt of the corner of his mouth.  
"Yep!"  
  
Crais raised an eyebrow, "Crichton apart from the sheer logistics, from your earlier description you made us believe that the population of Erp is huge. Yet you tell us that one man delivers presents all over the world in one night?"  
  
"It's only a story Crais."  
"And how is he to do that, Crichton," Crais' eyebrow rose in sarcasm.  
"He has a flying sleigh, which are pulled by flying reindeers.  
"Flying reindeers," Crais' sneer widened.  
"Let him tell his story Crais," Chiana piped in, warming to the story. Crais settled back.  
  
Crichton continued, "He flies over the houses and drops the presents in the chimneys."  
"And they don't get burned," Crais again. Ka D'Argo shot him an angry look.  
"No, it's magic," answered Crichton.  
  
"You want us to believe in a children's story," said Crais, "You want us to believe that the people on Erp celebrate this ritual on the mere strength of a children's story? Even the Erplings can't be that gullible!" He hated not being able to cross his arms.  
  
"Oh, shut up Crais," said Chiana, "I like the story."  
"You would," muttered Crais, which got him an angry look from Ka D'Argo  
  
Crichton continued as if nobody had said anything, "Then on Christmas morning everyone comes down to open their presents."  
"And we have to buy presents because there is no North Pole here," Crais said.  
"That's right," Crichton was glad that Crais had come up with a logical explanation.  
  
"I think you are leaving something out," Crais' voice had taken on a silky quality.  
"Why do you say that," asked Crichton guiltily.  
"Why would it be called Krsm's if the man on the North Pole is called Shant'h and his workforce are elves?"  
"His real name is Father Christmas."  
"Whose father is he? Is his name Shant'h Krsm's?"  
"He's nobody's father."  
Crais was puzzled, "Then why call him Father?"  
  
"Crais, you're not in the Interrogation Chamber," warned Aeryn.  
Crais turned to her, "I only want a clear picture. The story doesn't make sense."  
  
Crichton grew annoyed. Crais' questioning had made the others loose track of the story.  
"All right," Crichton said, "On Earth it is a religious holiday."  
"Then why not say so, Crichton," Crais' voice was smooth as dark velvet, "We can all relate to that, whether we believe or not. Why treat us like little children?"  
"Well, I thought..."  
"Now will you tell us the correct version?"  
The only one who did not shoot Crais a scathing glance was Zhaan. She nodded to Crais.  
  
"Okay," said Crichton, "A long time ago, about 2000 years give or take, a man was born on Earth whom people believed was the Son of God. (Crais raised an eyebrow but kept quiet) For a little over 33 years he lived among mortals. He had a vision that all people could live in Peace and understanding with each other. And he taught this vision to the people as a new religion. Many people did not like his teachings and in his 33rd year he was executed. ("Primitives," muttered Crais) His teachings did appeal to a lot of people, even after he died and now a great number of people on Earth believe in them and celebrate his birth every year."  
  
"I think I like the elves-story better," muttered Chiana.  
"And his name was Krsm's," concluded Crais.  
"No, his name was Jesus Christ. Christmas is the festival," elaborated Crichton.  
"He lived on the North Pole," Ka D'Argo asked.  
"No, he lived in the desert in a land called Palestine."  
"Then what have the North Pole and Shant'h got to do with it," Crais' questioning scowl was back in place.  
"Crais!"  
  
"Aeryn, he's telling us two stories. At least the second one makes sense."  
"Aeryn fumed at him, "It's just a festival story."  
"But why have two versions for the same festival?"  
"It's just a story," Aeryn fumed.  
Crais shrugged his uninjured shoulder.  
  
"Can we go back to the presents," said Crichton. The others perked up.  
"All right. Christmas is also the festival of giving and receiving, hence the presents."  
Aeryn looked at Crais but he didn't say anything. She looked back at Crichton again.  
  
+++++++  
Crichton walked over to the pile of presents and picked one at random. He looked at it. He stared at it and held it upside down. A smile was tucked in the corner of Crais' mouth. The Human was so smart, wasn't he? By letting everyone write the names of the others on their presents, the presents were now written in six different ideograms and characters and Crichton was only able to read one set. Finally Crichton admitted defeat, "Any of you who can read all the languages?"  
For a moment there was silence, then Crais spoke up, "I can read them, as long as you don't want me to pronounce them in the language they are written in. Except for Erp of course."  
Crichton was surprised. He had expected Zhaan to be the one, not Crais, "You Crais?"  
"Surprised Crichton?"  
  
Crichton let it go and ushered Crais over. Crais just glared at him, he wasn't going near the tree.  
Crichton carried all the presents over and piled them on the table in front of Crais, "I guess you have to be Santa's helper today."  
  
For Crais' benefit, Crichton wrote down the Erp-names on a slip of paper and Crais wrote the Sebacean version next to it. Crais called out the names on the tags and Crichton passed them on to the relevant person. The idea was that one would open his or her present first before another person was given a present.  
Crais thought that this was going to be a long procedure, most illogical and time-consuming, until he felt a strange sensation. He felt anticipation!  
It was strange to feel curiosity to what someone else was receiving, to feel anticipation what someone else would think of the presents bought and to observe the different ways people opened the presents.  
  
Chiana ripped the parcels open. No subtlety. Paper, cloth and pieces of string were flying everywhere and her cooing sounds of delight were amusing to hear.  
  
Zhaan was very meticulous in opening hers. Each paper or cloth unfolded completely before lifting her presents out. A soft thank you to the giver.  
  
Rygel opened his presents with such lightning speed that it was difficult to see how he managed it.  
  
Ka D'Argo tore at the parcels and Crais wondered how he kept the presents intact. He saw with amusement the look of surprise on the Luxan's face when he opened the gift he had received from Crais. He had not thought that Crais would have noticed his musical instrument.  
  
Aeryn opened hers quickly but methodically, the discarded wrappings not exactly folded but close to it.  
  
Crichton, Crais was amused to notice, had an action, which was between Chiana's ripping and Ka D'Argo's tearing.  
  
Due to his injured shoulder, Crais had found quite a novel way to open his presents. He had declined Crichton's help in opening his presents. He wanted to experience for himself the glow he saw on the others' faces.  
He took one of his knives, which he kept sheathed at his back on his belt. It was a long straight knife with a deceptively thin blade. He made three deft movements over the presents, seemingly into thin air, then put the knife on the table.  
  
Crichton grinned, "Missed?"  
Crais removed the outside wrapping with his hand like opening a flap. It was with a distinct pleasure that he saw Crichton's mouth drop.  
"Not missed, Crichton," said Crais arrogantly, "Just didn't want to cut the present inside."  
  
Aeryn suppressed a giggle, apart from his temper and strategic brilliance, Crais had also been renowned for his prowess with blades of any kind. She had also seen the look on Crichton's face, had seen how he swallowed deeply. Strangely enough she had enjoyed his discomfort.  
  
Soon all presents were unwrapped and the Observation Deck resembled a Nelvian Tip.  
  
Crais was surprised with the presents he had been given. Rygel had given him two of his baubles; they would come in useful when he needed to restock.  
Zhaan had given him a variety of medical components.  
Ka D'Argo and Chiana had given him Raslak.  
Crichton had found him a modern edition of "The Art of Warfare" by Tereq Thaan who had been a warlord from the beginning of the Peacekeeper days. He was surprised and he surmised that Aeryn might have had a hand in it. She had given him a new knife, perfectly balanced, almost a twin to the one he was wearing now.  
  
One thing puzzled him; he had not come across Aeryn's and Crichton's presents.  
"Crichton there should have been two more presents. I did not see them."  
"Are you sure?"  
"I am positive."  
  
Crichton went back to the tree and searched around it. He let out a yell of delight, "You're right!" He bent down to retrieve it.  
Crais' presents to them had miraculously survived the crash and the fire. There was some spray on it but that was about all.  
Crichton brought them to the table, "How did you know?"  
"Because they were my presents to you and Aeryn."  
"Aww, how sweet," drawled Crichton, "I was wondering if you had forgotten us."  
Crais felt the blood rise to his cheeks but managed to keep himself under control.  
  
Crichton had his present open before Aeryn, he lifted the model, "A children's toy Crais? What made you..." It was then that he noticed the resemblance to his aircraft. It was perfect to the smallest detail. He nodded his thanks to Crais, acknowledging the craftsmanship.  
  
Aeryn had unwrapped hers as well, "It is beautiful Crais. Thank you." She turned the miniature ship around and around in her hands. She could imagine stepping on board.  
  
"Didn't know you were that creative Crais," said Crichton.  
Before Crais could answer him Ka D'Argo interrupted him, "One of the Peacekeepers has to make the models for their slaughtering campaigns. Why not the good commander himself?"  
"You're could be right, probably didn't want to spend to credits," guffawed Rygel.  
Crais scowled at them. Luckily nobody took any notice and the party moved to dinner.  
  
+++++++  
Ka D'Argo brought the roasted Panchitak bird in on a platter, while Chiana, Zhaan and Aeryn brought in the vegetables and the condiments.  
"Guys, this has to be the equivalent of the turkey. On Earth..."  
  
Crais had lost some of the interest and left Crichton to explain about the eating of the bird. He thought about Ka D'Argo's words. It had not been true that he had used his modelling skills for campaigns, the Peacekeepers used virtual scenarios for that. He wondered if he would still enjoy woodcarving that much if he had. Probably.  
  
"Yo, Crais? Daydreaming?"  
Crais looked up. He had not been aware that Crichton had asked him a question.  
"I was wondering if you could carve up the bird?" Crichton grinned.  
"I can do the carving," Ka D'Argo said, making ready to stand up.  
Under normal circumstances Crais would have left that task to Ka D'Argo but he felt as if Crichton had thrown him a challenge and he couldn't pass up on that, "How thin?"  
Crichton pursed his lips in disbelief that Crais would take up the challenge, "How about edible thin, not like glass or foil but not thickly cut either."  
  
Crais stood up and hobbled over to the end of the table were the bird was resting, he used the table for support to get there. The roast was too big to be cut sitting down.  
He hated using his knife for it but he knew that it would be the sharpest blade for carving.  
Crichton looked at him in wonder. He had never seen carving done by a one armed person.  
  
Crais took his right hand glove off and touched the skin of the bird to feel the resistance. Once he had established that, he picked up the knife and moved his hand with lightening speed. The movement was almost circular; down, back, up and down again. The movement reminded Crichton of baton twirling.  
  
Crais made this movement twenty times and once sideways before he stopped.  
The bird still looked untouched. "Just flexing your muscles, Crais, Crichton asked with a grin.  
Crais raised an eyebrow, "It is done Crichton. I hope I have carved enough for everyone." He hobbled back to his place at the table. He placed his glove on the table. He found it difficult to put it back on.  
  
Crichton walked to the roast with disbelief on his face. When he got closer he could see "slice-nicks" over the skin of the bird. It wasn't until he touched the bird that the slices fell away. Twenty big but thin slices, each nearly the same thickness. He whistled in admiration, "You keep surprising me Crais. Remind me not to get into a knife-fight with you."  
  
Crichton placed the meat on the plates and soon everyone was piling vegetables and condiments around it. For once Ka D'Argo had not made a scathing remark to Crais' performance.  
  
Aeryn leaned over to Crais, "Well executed, Sir."  
Crais nodded, feeling rather pleased with himself.  
  
He used the knife to slice his meat and vegetables in bite-size portions. He then held the knife in his left hand and wiped the grease off with a soft cloth in his right hand. Before putting it back in the sheath of his belt he checked if there was no grease left. Only then did he start eating.  
  
Aeryn noticed that he ate with relish, "Too many food cubes, Crais?"  
Crais stopped eating. The corner of his mouth twitched, "I couldn't pick up any fresh food that looked edible from the last Commerce planet."  
  
Aeryn looked at him from under dark eyebrows, "Well, you better start eating then. There is enough to have three helpings each and still more on the bird. John says that it is normal on Erp. Sometime they have to eat Tu'ky for two weekens!"  
  
Crais looked at her in horror, it would be almost as bad as eating food cubes for a monen as he was bound to be doing. "And they do this every cycle," he looked at her in disbelief, "and Crichton calls it fun?"  
"That is what he says," Aeryn shrugged her shoulders.  
"Then I hope we will eat enough of the bird tonight. I don't want to subject you to that prospect willingly." Aeryn agreed with him.  
  
After the second helping Crais had to concede, feeling rather stuffed. A look around the table showed him the same results with the others, apart from Rygel.  
He sat back and wondered if this "Krsm's"-eating ritual was part of some obscure torture. He could hardly move.  
  
Finally everyone was satisfied, the dishes cleared away and everyone was back on the Observation Deck. Crais had to admit that so far, apart from the strange rituals to contend with and the mishap earlier, it had not been so bad. He wanted to reserve his judgement. The evening wasn't over yet.  
  
Crichton looked around the table. He saw happy faces, even Crais' scowl had smoothed out to one of his charming smiles. Unfortunately Crais was now talking to Chiana, which in turn resulted in Ka D'Argo looking rather sultry at Crais.  
"What now John," Aeryn asked next to him.  
  
Crichton had discarded the idea of playing board games or games of any kind. He had fondly remembered the happy squabbles over the table from his childhood. Somehow he didn't think it would work with this group. "Find the head" would be the result.  
  
Then he remembered that at least all agreed on singing. He would teach then at least one Christmas song, "We sing!"  
  
All conversation ceased and six pairs of eyes were looking at him.  
"Is this part of the Krsm's ritual," Crais asked.  
Crichton nodded, "We all sing the same song..."  
  
Rygel wanted to refrain and Zhaan agreed that he shouldn't sing.  
"No," Crichton was adamant, "We all sing."  
Crais looked at him in amusement, "And in which language will we be singing it, Erp?"  
"That would be too much to ask," conceded Crichton, "Since we all have translator microbes, I just teach the words and the melody." They all nodded in agreement.  
  
"All right the words are like this:  
  
Silent night Holy night   
All is calm all is bright   
'Round yon virgin Mother and Child   
Holy infant so tender and mild   
Sleep in heavenly peace   
Sleep in heavenly peace   
  
Silent night, holy night,   
Shepherds quake at the sight.   
Glories stream from heaven afar,   
Heav'nly hosts sing Alleluia;   
Christ the Saviour is born;   
Christ the Saviour is born.   
  
Silent night, holy night,   
Son of God, love's pure light.  
Radiant beams from Thy holy face,   
With the dawn of redeeming grace,   
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth;   
Jesus, Lord, at Thy birth."  
  
The others looked at him and were confused. Again it was Crais who tried to make sense of the confusion, "Crichton the melody sounds... good but I am a bit puzzled with some of the lines. I do believe that this is the song of Djeez's Kryst, the man you mentioned earlier (Crichton nodded) and his birth. (Crichton nodded again). Was he born intravenously? (Crichton creased his brows questioningly) His mother was a virgin according to the song!"  
"Well, he was believed to be the Son of God," Crichton tried to explain. Crais raised his eyebrow.  
  
Crais mused, "The fourth line must be the reason why you, symbolically of course, eat Tu'ky every Cycle."  
"How's that," asked Crichton while he poured himself a shot of Raslak.  
Crais continued while Crichton took a sip, "Because you eat the Krsm's baby!"  
Crichton nearly choked on Crais' calmly delivered remark, "Why do you think that?"  
"The line says 'Holy infant so tender and mild'."  
  
Crichton could see the reasoning, he had never looked at that line that way, "It... uhm... just explains the innocence of the baby."  
"Then why not say so," Crais asked.  
  
"It's a song, Crais and it was written a long time after the actual events. I don't know how it translates through your translator microbes. It probably doesn't support 'Alleluia' either (the others looked at each other) but it rhymes."  
  
Since Crais found most Erp-customs quite strange anyway, he filed the remark under the same heading. "Since it has no bearing..."  
  
+++++++  
As Crichton had proposed, they all sang together in their own languages and Pilot tried to drown out the cacophony that ensued.  
Even through the translator microbes it was obvious that the people assembled had different opinions on how the words had to be sung and the rhythm of the melodies kept. Crichton could now understand why the others had not been very keen on Rygel's singing.  
  
"Please, stop," Crichton shouted, "You are right, this is not going to work!"  
By now the others were enjoying the singing and glared at Crichton for interrupting them. Crais had an enigmatic smile on his face and Pilot breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
"Sorry, guys," Crichton said sadly, "I had hoped it might work but with everyone singing in different languages and rhythms it just doesn't. I am sorry." He looked quite sad. He had longed to hear the song again but unfortunately it was not to be.  
  
Zhaan stepped forward and laid a hand on his arm, "We are sorry we have disappointed you John. We know you feel homesick." Crichton nodded.  
Zhaan looked in his eyes and then at the little group. They all felt sorry for Crichton, even Crais, although his expression wasn't so easy to read. They had all enjoyed this Krsm's ritual. Zhaan looked back at him, "There is another option (Crichton looked up) but we need Crais' cooperation."  
Crais looked at her, what did she have in mind?  
  
Zhaan continued, "He kept singing in the tune you had set and kept to most of the words. We all agree that he has the best singing voice of all present here, maybe he can sing it for you?"  
Crais felt uncomfortable with the attention and the praise but also oddly flattered.  
Crichton looked at Crais, "Would you?"  
Crais had expected the Human to turn Zhaan's offer down. He was touched. He nodded.  
  
They all sat down again, looking at Crais.  
For a micron Crais closed his eyes and all thought he was trying to concentrate on the song.  
  
Then, to everyone's amazement, the sound of the two Leviathans filled the room quietly with their version of the melody. Crais opened his eyes, an absent look still present in them.  
At the right moment he added his own rich baritone voice to Talyn's and Moya's singing.  
  
Never had Crichton heard the song sung in another language more beautiful than this and tears appeared in his eyes.  
  
"Silent night..."  
  
Merry Craismas  
1 


End file.
